


Miniatures

by mrkinch



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, Old mutants in love, Vignette, everyone loves air travel, photography session, young mutants being rebellious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 03:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrkinch/pseuds/mrkinch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>tiny bits of tumblr fic with the instigating pics</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Green Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lovely old men in love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written when [Sakuralori](http://sakuralori.tumblr.com/) posted the following pics [here](http://sakuralori.tumblr.com/post/28772197072):
> 
>   
> 

Charles always did have an especially convincing come hither glance. Erik had basked in it, cringed before it, sweated under its warmth, and the years have not dimmed its brilliance. It is embarrassingly possible that age has enhanced the effect that the laugh lines about Charles's eyes have on Erik. And his mouth. After all these years, still his mouth. Erik’s own lips, he knows, are faded to unnoticeable, the thin, colorless lips of an old man. But Charles’s are astonishing still, soft and full if not so red now, set off by his neat, white beard. Erik’s hands itch to touch, to stroke Charles’s cheek where skin gives way to bristles, to kiss him and feel the delicious contrast of smooth lips, rough beard and, he very much hopes, a slick and clever tongue. 

It is a bit unfair that Charles looks so good, standing patiently in the kitchen doorway, but then patient and sure are states that, as far as Erik can tell, Charles inhabits effortlessly. 

"Erik? Will you come in? Surely you don’t mean simply to stand out in the garden."

Indeed, Erik does not.


	2. Decadence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bit of rebellion with Raven and Charles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written when [pearlo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o) captioned this picture ["raven and charles as teenagers"](http://pearlo.tumblr.com/post/52776083718/raven-and-charles-as-teenagers). (Originally posted on tumblr [here](http://13neighbors.tumblr.com/post/38428782699/princess-yvonne-and-prince-alexander-1955).)

Raven took another swallow and managed not to grimace. They’d chosen this bottle because it had been hidden away in the back of the lowest cupboard, thus least likely missed. Sharon never looked down, only up. It was dreadful stuff, though Raven refused to let on. Charles seemed not to mind it. Perhaps the rough taste of the cigarette made it better, though how she could not imagine. (Charles had told her where the new chauffeur had hidden a pack; pilfering it was simple.) But Charles’s face was set in that peculiar, determined expression that he got when one of his rare surges of disobedience began to trickle away. Raven knew if she spluttered or gagged Charles would instantly think better of it all. And it was so exciting, drinking and smoking in the launch just like the grown-ups, even tied to the dock as it was. Raven never wanted their afternoon of decadence to end.


	3. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because [Cesare](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare) liked [this set by fassbender-mcavoyobsessed](http://fassbender-mcavoyobsessed.tumblr.com/post/45207774105), and because Michael looks thunderous and James mischievous.

Michael scowled as he trundled his bag towards ground transportation. It had taken forever and a fucking day to disembark, and he shuddered to think how many very heavy and almost-too-big-for-the-bin bags he had retrieved for little old ladies. And not so little old ladies. //Such a polite young man//, true enough, he’d been raised to have manners, but less altruistically, it was that or get bashed in the head or hide in his seat and be last off the damned aircraft. For some reason he hadn't then quite been able to recall, delay was even less desirable than usual.

It hadn't helped that the flight had landed at what his body thought was 3 am or that, desperate as he was for rest this week, month, year it seemed, he’d put in earplugs, covered his eyes, and taken what was euphemistically called a sleep-aid. Previous experience suggested that it mightn't work at all, but given his exhaustion it worked with a vengeance, and he’d been awakened not by the return-to-your-seat chime or even the sudden lights, but only by the attendant, expert at gaining attention without touching, looming alarmingly and urgently insisting that Michael put up his tray table and secure his seat belt.

He was still trying to remember why he was here when the plane bounced onto the runway and careened off onto the first taxiway, startling him into bracing himself heavily on the seat ahead. This earned him a glare from the seat’s occupant, restricted by the narrow gap but vicious nonetheless, while not entirely preventing him from falling against the elderly gentleman to his left, earning him a second, colder glare. Headachey and bleary, Michael groped around, very gently, under the seat ahead, pulled his satchel awkwardly into his lap and dug out his mobile. When he managed to shift it out of airplane mode it beeped instantly and a text appeared.

{welcome home}, it said. {waiting @ usual}. There was a photo attached.

Oh. Right.


	4. Photographing Erik

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "a few pictures" has become a great deal more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written when [Starrose17](http://starrose17.tumblr.com/) posted these pics [here](http://starrose17.tumblr.com/post/45099610650/it-was-very-difficult-for-michael-to-concentrate).
> 
>   
> 

Erik knows he’s fidgeting badly, but at least he’s not nervously buttoning up his henley. That had gotten him a stern if somewhat quizzical look from Charles. {{You do know why we’re here, yes?}}, Charles’s left eyebrow proclaiming clearly that there was a correct answer to the question. And yes, he does know. It had been his idea, in the beginning, the thought diffidently left on display for Charles to find if he chose. A tiny risk of a sort that Erik had begun to enjoy taking, and Charles’s answering pulse of delighted lust had been just the reward he’d hoped for. 

But once Charles’s got hold of the idea it became a Plan, and a few minutes at home with Charles’s cell phone cataloging Erik’s marks morphed into a session at Armando’s photo studio. 

"You’re going to be away for a whole week!" Charles’s smile had been mischievous with a hint of a pout, and Erik loved that Charles let him feel that the pout was as important as the deprecation. "Since you've offered, I want pictures I can wank to properly. It wouldn't do to have to continually put my phone in a compromising position.”

So here they are, and Erik has to admit that Armando is making Erik very nearly comfortable with the process. He’s a friend of Charles's, one of the people that Erik is thinking about perhaps trying eventually maybe to allow to become a friend of Erik's as well. In the studio Armando is professional but not lacking in humor, and seems to be completely at home with Charles's moods and games. It's that realization that starts an all too familiar tendril of jealous anxiety worming its way through Erik's belly, but he's able to nip it off (this time, thank god) by visualizing Charles jerking off in their enormous, rumpled bed, surrounded by the photos taken today. He glances over at Charles, who looks pleased and a little proud, and Erik tries not to flush.

And that’s the problem, isn't it? It would be fine if Charles would only just let them get on with it. But no. He's sitting on the stairs to Armando rooms, grinning; smirking would be more accurate. He's stretched out those sturdy, jean-clad legs of his, the ones that Erik so loves to kneel between, and propped his boots - boots! -on the railing. 

{{When we get home,}} Charles promises. settling himself more comfortably and ostentatiously recrossing his ankles. {{Now show me those marks.}}

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Green Door (The One Suitcase Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1600463) by [pocky_slash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocky_slash/pseuds/pocky_slash)




End file.
